Page 20 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

Suddenly, I was on fire. I pushed at his hand so I could get the hoodie off. I was burning up. Shaking with it.

And then he was dragging at it too, but not just to help me with my overheating problem. He didn’t stop once the hoodie was pooled on the truck floor. He yanked at the thin straps on my top, pulling them down my arms until I was exposed, my flesh overflowing the flimsy cups of my strapless bra. I blinked, my brain sluggish between what had just happened and what was happening now.

What was happening?

Our gazes locked and clung, his deep, dark pupils dragging me down. I couldn’t stop the pull into his force field. Couldn’t remember why this was a bad idea. Why I’d regret it in the morning or in an hour. My heart pounded in my ears, throbbed between my breasts.

His eyes never left mine as he gripped my chin again, this time yanking my mouth to his.

Hunger poured from him into me, as tangible as his hot rush of breath against my parted lips. He fused our mouths together, kissing me without a hint of finesse or caution. He didn’t wait to see if I could keep up, just trusted that I would. His hands delved into my hair, wrecking my ponytail, driving into it to turn my head just where he wanted me. Our tongues tangled, and some part of my brain cataloged that he tasted like expensive liquor and frustration, the most erotic combination I’d tasted in my life.

I drew back sharply enough that I bumped my head on the ceiling. “You’ve been drinking—and you drove—”

He started laughing so hard that he wheezed. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re the one who almost killed us, and you’re fucking sober.”

I didn’t laugh. “You would’ve just driven up all those hours alone?”

“I do everything alone.”

The bald statement combined with the smear of lipstick that had somehow gotten on his cheek hit me square in the chest. I reached for him, framing his face in my hands before I leaned in and nipped his lower lip. Sucking on it hard while he watched me, his chest rising and falling so fast that I could see it even in the near dark. The tip of my tongue touched his and then he was on me, feasting on my mouth as if it was a banquet and he was starving to death.

One hand cupped my cheek and the other squeezed my breast. I gasped, but he didn’t gentle his touch. If anything, he grew rougher. Bolder. His hand slid up between my breasts to my throat, his big thumb pushing against my pulse. Trapping it while his lips and tongue devoured me until I was grasping at his big arms, trying to find purchase. My head was spinning, my breath leaving me in staccato bursts, and he wasn’t even breathing heavily anymore.

He’d entered some zone where he could control me masterfully while he stood back and watched me shatter.

I’d been on a collision course with this night for so very long. Probably since the very first time I’d walked into Kerry’s basement and seen her older brother bent over an old acoustic bass guitar, carefully restringing it with hands more suited to catching a football than to making love to an instrument.

Or making love to me.

I slid my hands up his bare chest, slipping underneath the vest to touch the ridges and planes that had been off-limits to me. Nibbling at his mouth while I caressed him and absorbed the sensation of his heart stampeding under my palm, along with those shallow intakes of breaths he probably didn’t think I heard. Ones that grew deeper and shakier as I reached up to undo his hair. His eyes stayed dark and steady on mine when it tumbled out of the band I yanked free.

Then I was pushing him back into the seat to straddle him, fighting to make room in the tight confines of the front seat. He hit a lever and the seat jolted backward, sending me flying forward on top of him, pressing my bare breasts to his skin and those narrow panels of leather.

His groan was pure torment. “Get those shorts off before I fuck you through them.”

The words had me shifting back so that his very large, very aroused cock settled against my achy center. This time, the groans were mutual.

I shut my eyes, wondering if I had a concussion from nearly dying. This couldn’t be happening. His thick fingers couldn’t be pushing aside my shorts and panties so he could find my pussy, already wet and hot and craving him.

“Goddamn, you’re ready already. I knew you’d be like this.”

I couldn’t puzzle out what he meant, especially since I was never ready when things progressed to this point. My engine had started and stalled so many times that I’d given up even trying to slip in the key. Or trying to wedge it in the lock that was not built to Oz’s dimensions, thank you very much.

But from the way I was rubbing and rutting against him as his fingers made themselves at home between my legs, I was ready to try.

“I want to pull you up here,” he panted into my mouth between long, drugging kisses and short, heady ones. “Put you right on my face.”

I was blushing. My scalp was blazing hot, and it wasn’t just because his free hand was massaging my scalp while we kissed. Every part of me was lit up, especially where his thumb was circling my clit, spreading my wetness around, teasing me with pressure before sliding away and wiping it on my thigh. As if he wanted me to know how wet I was, in case I’d somehow missed that fact.

“More,” I begged. “Please more.”

He didn’t leave me hanging. Two fingers slipped down, sliding in the proof of my desire for him. Spearing into me without hesitation, making me moan and arch so that my breasts were close enough for him to suck and lick and…bite.

The first one caused me to jerk, unintentionally driving his wide fingers deeper. So deep that I couldn’t breathe for a second until his thumb found my clit again and eased the sting. He rubbed me harder than I would’ve guessed I could handle, fingerfucking me so wildly that my body made obscene noises.

So embarrassing. So hot.

The windows were so foggy I couldn’t see anything but clouds of condensation. I could barely make out the glow of his eyes in the low light, focused on me like beacons. Trained on me to see every nuance. Waiting for me to crumble literally into his hands.

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